


Duty of Care

by coolbreezemage



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pre-Timeskip | Academy Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:29:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28964658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbreezemage/pseuds/coolbreezemage
Summary: Dimitri discovers that Dedue's been hiding injuries.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	Duty of Care

The ache still hadn’t gone away. Even several days - nearly a full week, in fact - after the battle, Dedue’s chest still burned with dull pain all along the reddened cut left behind where the Demonic Beast’s filthy, jagged claw had sliced through his armor and scraped along his skin. It had hurt terribly, but it hadn’t seemed more than a scratch at the time. He’d brushed aside the others’ offers of aid after the victory. Ashe and Ingrid had suffered worse injuries that needed Mercedes’s immediate care, and besides that, Dedue knew enough of medicine to tend to his own wound. Or so he’d thought. He’d applied the right herbs, kept it clean and bandaged, but it still ached, reminding him of its presence every time he stretched or moved or even stood still too long.

He sighed and reached for another pallet of sprouts, trying to ignore it. Trying to ignore the fear that the pain was growing slowly worse… He could examine it after his duties, he told himself. There wasn’t time now. He had to get these plants settled in their beds, then join Prince Dimitri and Sylvain for lance drills in the Knights’ Hall, then after that hurry to the dining hall to assist Annette in finishing dinner. That last task was sure to be an adventure unto itself. Annette was getting better at kitchen work, growing more comfortable with keeping her hands steady and not losing track of simmering pots, but he still didn’t like the idea of leaving her alone with a knife and a flame. And after dinner he’d promised Ashe he’d join him in the library to study. 

It was a lot, but he couldn’t imagine complaining. So many people vying for his attention and his friendship… it was something he’d never dared to imagine. When he’d come to the Academy, he’d fully expected to be nothing more than Dimitri’s vassal, a servant and shield promising his strength to the protection of his lord. He could ask for no more, no matter what he or Dimitri might wish in their hearts. He’d expected to be regarded with suspicion, if not outright distaste, by Dimitri’s fellow students. That was how it had been in Fhirdiad: his every move greeted with cold stares or children hurried away from his sight. 

And there were still cold stares, still silent accusations. They would be there no matter how well he behaved or how Dimitri fumed. He’d seen some of the monks and even the knights wearing faces that said perfectly clearly that they’d like nothing more than to shoo him out of their nice clean halls. The injustice of it burned deeper than any of his wounds. But it was not a surprise. He knew well how much hate these otherwise refined people could hold in their pious hearts. 

But what made it bearable (though of course he’d bear anything to give Dimitri a chance at realizing his ideals…) was the students. His classmates - most of them, at least - looked upon him with nothing but friendship. If they felt anything towards his homeland, it was curiosity. It wasn’t enough, could never be enough, for him to feel truly at home, but for once he felt like he belonged. That on the whole, he could trust the people around him to see him as a person and not a threat. It was a good feeling, and he didn’t dare risk losing it by taking advantage of their kindness and open minds. 

He stood up to fetch another trough of soil, wincing as the wound stung in protest. A junior gardener glanced up at him as he moved and then went back to her work.

It hurt, but it wasn’t enough to be worth troubling the others. And he’d rather not present himself to Manuela and the appraising eyes he’d heard she turned on men of his build. He simply needed rest and time. He wasn’t sure if he had enough of either, but there was no other choice if he wanted to get all his work done in reasonable time. 

By the time all the sprouts were nestled comfortably in new soil and appropriately watered (for they were thirsty plants, far more needy than any Duscur bloom, and would drink a garden dry if not kept safely in their own boxes), the day’s clouds had cleared and the hot sun poured in over Dedue’s shoulders.

He wiped the sweat from his neck as he left the greenhouse, proud of the morning’s work. Besides the watering, the sprouts needed little human intervention to thrive now that they were planted. In a few weeks they’d have vines and leaves, and shortly after that, fruit ready for the kitchen, to be served stewed with spices or eaten fresh as a treat in between tasks. 

He headed around the Academy’s stone-paved pathways, past students sprawled out on the grass with study books or board games or plates of tea and pastries. Even with their lessons, they had so much time to relax, to play and gossip like carefree children. He spotted Mercedes among them, sharing a pot of tea with Flayn. 

“Good morning, Dedue!” Mercedes called. Flayn, busy stacking sugar cubes into a tower, looked up a moment later and waved at him, smiling brightly. He nodded back, warmed. He wasn’t sure what drew them to him, but both kept seeking his company. But today he didn’t have time to spare. He continued on towards the stables.

The dull drumbeat of training weapons striking their targets rang out from the Knights’ Hall as Dedue approached. 

Annette was the first to notice him enter. “Dedue!” she called out, swinging her axe over her shoulder and nearly falling over in her haste to greet him. She rubbed at her arm and winced. Had she strained herself while sparring? She didn’t give him any time to think about it. “Are you here to train? His Highness just went over to the storeroom but I’m sure he’ll be right back!” She giggled. “He broke a lance. It was pretty fun to watch, actually. He was doing a really good job and then it just snapped just like that.” 

Dedue frowned. The others might find it amusing, or even impressive, but he knew how ashamed Dimitri was of his tendency to break weapons. And teacups, and sewing needles. No matter how many times he told Dimitri that such strength could be a blessing, that Dedue could handle any delicate tasks that needed doing, Dimitri kept trying. It was admirable, yes, but it so often ended in upset that Dedue wasn’t sure it was worth it.

“Dedue!” That was Dimitri, heading over from the storeroom, fresh weapon in hand. “I’m sorry for the delay, I hope you weren’t waiting.”

“It was no trouble. I was talking to Annette.”

Annette grinned and waved at Dimitri. “I’d love to stay and watch you two, but I need to help out with cooking and I think I’m already late! So I’ll see you at dinner!” She turned and hurried out the door, somehow avoiding tripping on the uneven stone as she flew over it. Dedue dearly hoped there was nobody in her path.

“She is remarkably… resilient,” Dimitri said once she’d left. He frowned. “She didn’t tell you what happened?”

What did that mean? “She told me your equipment broke,” Dedue said carefully, avoiding assigning blame.

“But not how it happened.” Dimitri shook his head, face darkening. He weighed the new lance in his hand, regarding its dulled tip with an unreadable expression. “She was attempting a new technique, one I’d suggested to her after watching Edelgard training.”

“Studying multiple combat styles is a wise strategy,” Dedue said.

“It is,” Dimitri agreed. “But I didn’t change my own to account for her unfamiliarity. It was hardly a fair fight. She knocked me back, and I countered too hard, without time to pull my strike.” He grimaced. “I could very easily have broken her elbow. We were lucky, but as it is I expect she’ll have bruising…”

“Mercedes can easily heal any injuries she sustains,” Dedue said, hoping to reassure him. Training injuries were so common, inconsequential, there was no need for Dimitri to blame himself for a mishap. Especially when Annette herself clearly held no animosity over it. 

Dimitri nodded, but he wasn’t comforted. “I shouldn’t give her the need,” he said quietly. He sighed. “Are you ready? I’m still fit for more sparring.” He raised his weapon, confidence coming back into his motions.

“I am.” There was someone missing. “Where is Sylvain?”

Dimitri crossed his arms. “That, I don’t know. But I have a very good guess.”

Dedue didn’t need to ask what it was. In town, probably. He hoped Sylvain was taking care of himself and not causing too much trouble among the female population of Garreg Mach. 

“We can spar without him.” Dedue fetched a heavy training axe. His side twinged as he lifted it. He hoped that wouldn’t become a problem.

For a while, it wasn’t. He blocked Dimitri’s moves, counted with his own, as the two of them fell into a familiar rhythm.

They traded blow after blow. Sometimes Dedue knocked Dimitri back, earning him an approving nod and renewed determination in the next attack, sometimes Dimitri landed a strike that shuddered through Dedue’s bones. He had never truly enjoyed training like this, not the way Dimitri did, but he would not refuse the opportunities given to them by the Academy’s facilities. This would make them stronger, this would ensure Dimitri would survive to change the world, that Dedue would survive to aid him, to restore his people, to secure a better world through force if he must. 

Dedue swung his axe; Dimitri leapt back out of the way and charged forward at just the moment Dedue was vulnerable and couldn’t move fast enough to defend himself. The dulled tip of his weapon struck the padding at Dedue’s side, right over the aching bruise. He grunted in pain and fell back a few steps, axe dropping to the ground with a heavy crash.

“Dedue!” Dimitri was at his side in an instant, weapon thrown aside. “My friend, have I injured you?”

“No,” Dedue said, cutting off the stream of self-recriminations he knew was coming. He wasn’t going to let Dimitri blame himself for this. “It was… already there.” The wound throbbed, far worse than other blows he’d taken in training, even from Dimitri. 

Dimitri frowned. “Already there? But still causing you pain.” He reached out with a hesitance far, far from the face he displayed in combat. “Let me see?” 

Dedue nodded and pulled his tunic up to expose the raw skin beneath. He heard Dimitri’s breath catch. It looked worse than it had that morning. The dark purple bruise was now oozing blood from a web of cuts that spread across his stomach and hip.

“What is this?” Dimitri looked up, met his eyes. “What did this to you?”

“A Demonic Beast,” he said, unable to lie, unable to even consider it. “In our fight several days ago. It struck me. I thought the wound insignificant until now.” He had to admit the sight was alarming now. He regretted not addressing it before Dimitri had to find out this way. “It was not bleeding this morning. And the marks were smaller.” Was it some sort of curse? 

“We need to find a healer immediately,” Dimitri said, the words all but an order.

Dedue didn’t want to trouble anyone with it. But the way Dimitri looked at him, with so much raw distress in his eyes, he couldn’t allow that to continue another moment. 

“Very well,” he agreed. 

“Good.” Dimitri took his hand and pulled him to his feet. Dedue let him lead him out the door and into the main hall. He stayed quiet, even though he still wanted to apologize for the interruption to Dimitri’s training. He knew such an apology would only distress Dimitri further.

Dimitri was still holding his arm when they reached the other side of the hall and the stairway to the second level. Dedue didn’t need the support, but he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. It was so rare now that they had the chance to be close enough to touch, now that they slept in separate rooms on separate floors and spent much of their time among students, teachers, monks, all with watchful eyes and little understanding of the history between them. 

He would do anything to keep Dimitri safe and unhurt. He’d always known that feeling was returned in kind, that was how they had met, after all, but to see it demonstrated so keenly never failed to set his heart pounding. 

There was so much at stake in their every move. Some of it Dedue could name. Some he couldn’t. 

“Oh! Dedue, are you all right? What’s happened?” That concerned voice belonged to Mercedes, standing in the doorway with a bundle of tea things in her arms.

Dimitri replied before Dedue could find the words to reassure her. “There was an accident on the training grounds. I struck-”

“The injury was already there,” Dedue insisted. “My training merely opened it again.” Few things could bring him to interrupt his lord in public. This self-blame was one of them.

“Well, that doesn’t sound good at all,” Mercedes said, watching them with an odd look in her eyes. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Dedue wanted to tell her not to trouble herself, but once again Dimitri answered first. “The wound is strange. I haven’t seen anything like it before. Dedue says it was caused by a Demonic Beast.”

“Oh my, we should take a look at that right away! Come with me.” Without waiting for a reply, she hurried up the stairs, leaving them no choice but to follow. Dedue’s wounds ached as he moved, but he obeyed, as much out of habit as for the promise of healing.

“Manuela said she was going to be in town today to stock up on supplies,” Mercedes explained. “Which of course means she’ll be spending half of that looking for available knights to woo.” She giggled. “If you ask me, she’s got the perfect one right here on the training grounds, but she’s going to have to look past that Relic of hers…”

Did she mean Catherine? He had certainly seen that sort of thing, among the many things he wasn’t supposed to see and pretended he didn’t. But the affairs of knights and teachers weren’t his business, and he wouldn’t ask. Mercedes didn’t linger on it in any case. 

“But the point is, the assistant she left in charge, well, he’s a very sweet boy, but I wouldn’t trust him with a needle.” 

Beside him, Dimitri blushed at the unintentional comparison. Dedue wanted to reassure him, but there was nothing he could say that wouldn’t risk embarrassing him. Fortunately, they entered the infirmary before the silence became uncomfortable.

The assistant in question was lounging at Manuela’s desk with a book open in his lap and half a cookie in his mouth. He looked up as they came in, scrambling into a more professional position.

“Don’t mind us,” Mercedes said, all cheer, though the way she pushed the tea things onto the desk made it very clear that she was fully in command here.

She took Dedue’s hand and firmly guided him towards one of the beds. Dimitri followed behind, only pausing when Mercedes reached her hand up to the curtain.

“We’ll be all right!” she said. 

Dimitri didn’t move.

Dedue tried next. “Your Highness, you do not need to stay.” There was no need for him to waste his time here now that Mercedes knew what to do. He’d fulfilled his mission of securing care for Dedue. And Dedue would rather him not have to see anything that might distress him further. 

Dimitri hesitated. “Please. I want to make sure you’re all right.”

To Dedue’s relief, Mercedes had an answer. “You can stay, Dimitri, but not behind the curtain.” She smiled. “I can handle this. It won’t take long.”

Dimitri sat stiffly on the other bed and nodded at them to continue, face still full of worry. 

Mercedes guided Dedue towards the bed with a hand on his arm and drew the curtain. Dedue was guiltily grateful that Dimitri would not have to see the wound again.

“Now then, let me take a look at that,” she said.

Dedue stripped off his shirt, frowning at the dark spots of blood that he’d have to wash off later. Mercedes studied the wound beneath, the discoloured bruises and seeping cuts, and after a brief glance at him for permission, ran her fingers gently along the edge.

She hummed in thought.

“You shouldn’t have left it for so long, Dedue!” she said. “It must have hurt a lot.”

“Forgive me,” Dedue said. “I… assumed it would heal on its own.”

“If it was a normal wound, maybe. But not a magic one. Next time, come to me right away.”

Without waiting for a reply, she closed her eyes and pressed her hands together, preparing a spell. The air around her hands shifted, hummed, glowed. Mercedes leaned forward and pressed that glow into the wound. The spell sank into Dedue’s skin with a chill like mint leaves, very different from the warmth of her usual healing spells. Before his eyes, the bruises faded until all that remained were barely-visible reddish patches, and the cut narrowed to a slim scar, no longer aching. Mercedes washed off the remaining blood with a damp cloth and pronounced him healthy. 

Dimitri jumped to his feet as soon as Mercedes pushed the curtain back again.

“Is it healed?”

Dedue nodded, standing steadier now that there was no more pain. “Yes. Thanks to Mercedes’s skill.”

Dimitri visibly sagged in relief. “Mercedes. Thank you. I apologize for the necessity-” He was clearly about to launch into another apology of some sort, but Mercedes cut him off with a giggle.

“You don’t need to say anything, Dimitri. It’s my honor to help my friends.” She squeezed Dedue’s hand briefly before going to gather her things from the desk. “I’ll see you both at dinner!” She headed out the door as it was a normal day, and Dedue supposed that it was.

Dimitri was quiet as the two of them stepped out into the hall. Dedue followed, unwilling to break the silence to ask where they were going. He didn’t need to wonder for long. Dimitri’s footsteps led them to his usual table at the back of the library. The place was quiet today. On such a nice day, most students took their studies outside. 

Dimitri hesitated, hand on one of the chairs.

“Your Highness,” Dedue said, for once in his life speaking before Dimitri could, “please forgive me. I did not mean to distress you.”

The way Dimitri looked at him told him he’d said exactly the wrong thing. 

“No. Dedue, that’s not the point,” he said, voice heavy with emotion. “You shouldn’t do it because of me. You should do it for yourself.”

There was too much he couldn’t say. “I do not have that opportunity.”

Dimitri winced and looked away. Dedue regretted hurting him, more than he could say, but it was only the truth.

Dimitri was quiet a moment. “Then…” he began, finally turning to meet Dedue’s eyes, “if it must be by my word… then promise me you will care for yourself. Even if I’m not here.” 

And to his relief, Dedue had no choice but to agree. “I will,” he said. But he did not want to think about a world where Dimitri wasn’t beside him. 

Dimitri smiled, a faint thing, but Dedue knew him well enough to see it. “Good.”

It was enough for now. Someday, perhaps they would be free to have more for themselves, but for the moment, they would take what they could. 


End file.
